


stand idly by

by gleefully_musical



Series: elizabeth! oh, my own heart! [1]
Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Daddy Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, anne boleyn just needs lizzie, catherine of aragon is the best mom, thomas seymour is a piece of trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24852049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefully_musical/pseuds/gleefully_musical
Summary: A companion piece to "Project Lizzie", set before. Basically me working through the whole Thomas Seymour thing.Anne, excited from a trip to the library to find out more about the daughter she never got to see grow up, finds out more than she was ready for. One of the queens has been keeping a secret that could very well tear apart the whole group.
Relationships: Anne Boleyn & Jane Seymour, Anne of Cleves & Catherine Parr, Catherine of Aragon & Katherine Howard
Series: elizabeth! oh, my own heart! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797907
Comments: 23
Kudos: 76





	1. throughout all this time?

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys, gals, and non-binary pals!  
> before you read this story, please be aware it discusses some pretty mature topics that can be triggers for some people.  
> if you have a hard time reading things about sexual abuse, please don't read this. I don't want to be the cause of anyone feeling upset. I'm here to build you all up, not break you down.   
> you are all beautiful.   
> dms are always open @ill_be_there_for_you23, or just shoot me a review and I'll get your details.  
> happy pride everyone!  
> \- q <3

None of them had expected it when it had happened.  
They’d been in the twenty-first century for a few months, the show was going well. Everyone was getting along well now. Even Anne and Aragon had patched things up somewhat, although they were still somewhat uncomfortable and awkward when alone with each other. All together, the queens were a family of sorts, which is why when the betrayal came, it hurt so badly.

Jane and Aragon were sitting at the kitchen counter, both with a cup of tea in front of them. Kitty and Anna were trying (and somewhat failing) to make pancakes, which was why the two others were there to chaperone them. Anne came down the stairs, knocking over a vase in her haste to get downstairs, which she thankfully caught, looking guilty. Stumbling into the kitchen, Anne ran up to her cousin.  
“Kit-kat, you’re making PANCAKES!” she exclaimed happily. Katherine looked confused.  
“Um...yeah. Don’t you like waffles better?”.  
“Crepes, actually. But pancakes are great too!” Anne grinned. Turning to the counter, she beamed even brighter, ignoring the confused looks on both Jane and Aragon’s faces.  
“Good morning!”.   
“Good morning, Anne.” Jane replied softly, still confused. Anne skipped over and sat down next to Aragon. Kitty and Cleves began to pass out the pancakes, and Anne wolfed hers down. Standing up and wiping her mouth, she waved and began to walk out of the room.  
“Hold on, Anne.” Aragon ordered, staring down at the pancakes she hadn’t even begun to eat yet. “What’s going on? You’re never this excited in the morning, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen even you eat that fast.”. Anne smiled brightly.   
“I’m going to the library today!” she answered happily. All four of the others looked shocked.  
“The library?” Anna asked.   
“Excuse me, I read, ma’am.” Anne said, placing a hand over her heart in mock offense. “And, yes, the library. Since we don’t have any performances today, I thought I’d go grab a few books about Elizabeth.”. The others exchanged looks as Anne’s voice grew softer. “I just thought I could use today to...you know, do a little research.”.   
“Well, I think that’s a wonderful idea.” Jane reassured her, going to give the younger girl a hug. Anne returned it gladly. “Have fun at the library, love. Just be back by lunch, yeah? I think I’ll make some cookies that will probably be gone by the time you come back if you take too long.”.  
“Cool! See you soon, guys!”. Anne traipsed out of the kitchen, and they could hear the door close behind her as she went off. Turning back to her tea, Jane turned pale.  
“Kitty! Do not eat the raw batter!”.

By the time Anne returned a few hours later, the group of queens had been joined by Cathy, and they’d migrated to the living room. Much to Aragon’s chagrin, Jane had been persuaded to turn on Frozen (“We’ve seen it twelve times!”), and Kitty and Cleves were in the middle of performing their own version of “Love is an Open Door”. When they heard the door open, Jane and Aragon shot each other a look, each hoping Anne wouldn’t be upset.   
The girl who came skipping in was far from upset. A large smile covered her face, and she was clutching enough books to equip a small army. Elizabeth was a popular figure in history to write about, after all.   
“Hi!” Anne squealed. All of the others smiled at her.   
“Did you find lots of books, Anne?” Cleves said sarcastically. For once in her life, Anne didn’t retort with an equally clever response, instead grinning and gesturing to the large basket of books in her arms.  
“Yep! I’m going to go to my room, save me some cookies!” she called over her shoulder as she left. The others looked at each other happily until Kitty pressed play again.  
“We finish each other’s-SANDWICHES!”

The beheaded queen stayed up in her room for nearly a full day, coming down the next morning for only a bite of a banana and a cup of coffee before running back up the stairs. When she finally came down, everyone was gathered around the table for lunch, Kitty telling an animated story about an old man she had met in the park. When Anne came ‘round the corner, however, they all got quiet. They hadn’t ever seen Anne like this before.

Her face was flushed and tear tracks were running down her face, her eyes puffy and full of tears. The space buns that were her trademark symbol were falling out, and she was in her most worn tracksuit. She looked utterly defeated, utterly broken. Kitty made to stand up, but Anne stopped her with a reach of her hand. Slowly, she turned to face Cathy, her face changing to one of anger, sadness, and undeniable hurt. Catherine shrunk back slightly, her face changing to one of realization.   
“You lied to me.” Anne’s voice was hoarse from tears, but undeniably hurt. “You told me she was safe with you, that she was protected!”. Cathy stood up.  
“Anne-”  
“No! You lied, you told me she was happy, you said-you said-” Anne cut her off, trying to continue, but failing as tears overwhelmed her. Jane stood up to comfort her, but Anne shrugged her off. “Don’t touch me!”.  
“What’s going on?” Aragon said calmly. “Anne, what’s the matter?”. The beheaded queen wiped some of the rapidly flowing tears off of her face.  
“Ask her.” she nearly growled. “She knows all about it. She’s always known.”  
“Anne, love, why don’t you sit down?” Jane asked, her face concerned.  
“I don’t want to sit down, Jane! I want to know why she lied. She’s been sitting here the whole time, talking to me about how Lizzie lived with her, but leaving out the most important parts! I thought she was safe with you, Cathy. I thought…”. And with this, Anne began to finally break, sobbing heavily as she fell into Jane’s arms.   
“Love, let’s get you back to your room, alright?” Jane murmured, brushing hair away from Anne’s face. The crying woman nodded slightly, letting Jane lead her back upstairs. 

Once Anne and Jane were fully disappeared from view, Aragon turned to her goddaughter.  
“What’s Anne talking about, mi amor?”. Cathy didn’t answer, curling further in on herself.   
“Catalina…” Kitty said, a hollow sound taking root in her voice.  
“What, Kitty?”  
“Read this.”. Kitty’s tone frightened Catalina a little, so she took the pink phone thrust in her face and began to read the article Kitty had pulled up.

Elizabeth started to receive early-morning visits from him. He would “make as though he would come at her” and she would shrink back. The next day, she rose earlier so that he wouldn’t find her in bed, but when he arrived, she was still dressed only in a nightdress, he in a short nightgown, “barelegged in his slippers”. He greeted her and reached out to “strike her on the back or the buttocks familiarly”. Another time he climbed into Elizabeth’s bed, while she was still in it. She continued to get up earlier – if she were dressed, he would bid her good morning and then go on his way. 

Aragon couldn’t believe what was written on the tiny screen, so she kept reading. 

On two occasions, Katherine Parr joined Seymour in his morning visits to the now 14-year-old girl, and they tickled her in bed. On another occasion, Seymour wrestled with Elizabeth in the gardens at Hanworth on an autumnal day, with Katherine nearby – he cut Elizabeth’s gown “into a hundred pieces” while Katherine “held her”. The nature of Katherine’s holding is not clear – held her down? Held her to protect her? Laughingly participated in mere horseplay? We don’t know how Elizabeth reacted.

“Cathy...is this true?” she asked quietly. The sob she heard in response was enough to give her an answer. Catalina felt her heart break. She hadn’t seen her Mary since she was around that age. Picturing a small girl, a mixture of Henry and Anne, in such a situation, a girl that could have just as easily been her beloved daughter, her beloved pearl of England. She heard a small squeak from Kitty behind her, and her heart broke just a little bit more. That had been Katheryn’s childhood. Turning away from her goddaughter, she scooped Kitty into her arms, holding her close.  
“Shh, sweetheart. It’s alright.”. The young queen continued to cry into Catalina’s shirt, and she let herself pretend for just a second, just one, that it was her Mary she was comforting, one last time. The sight of the brown hair, instead of red, shook her back into reality, and she turned awkwardly to Anna. The German woman had been standing there the whole time, watching the event play out silently. They had a silent conversation, ending with Anna nodding her consent. She would deal with Cathy. Aragon would take Kitty upstairs. And, well, they’d see how it went from there.


	2. Oh, my own heart!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane comforts Anne, and they have just the conversation Anne needs to finally let herself fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we all need a little jane/anne time. or at least I do. and it's my story, so I get to do what I want with it.  
> fun fact for today that I learned in "the six wives of henry viii" by alison weir:   
> anne and aragon both liked henry clean-shaven, so after he had anne executed, he grew the beard we all know, and never went clean-shaven again. douche.  
> who's watched hamilton on disney+? pippa soo can give my heart back, please, because she stole it with literally her first line. also lin has an...interesting crying face.  
> enjoy the chapter, my friends! read and review:) love ya<3

Jane hadn’t ever seen Anne cry this much.  
Well, not in this life. Back in the 1500s, she’d seen Queen Anne cry over her husband’s infidelity, her miscarriages, her fear she would never see her daughter again. But Jane had seen Anne as little more than a whore and a usurper back then, and even when Jane became part of the cause for Anne’s tears, she hadn’t minded, letting “The King’s Concubine” do whatever she wished.   
Now, though, she loved Anne and never wanted to see the woman cry. The fact that small, quiet, well-behaved, Elizabeth, the girl Jane had so wanted to hate but found herself loving instead, was the reason for the tortured sounds coming out of Anne’s mouth made it hurt just a little more.  
God, if she hadn’t lured Henry away by using the same tricks Anne had, not even original enough to find her own ideas, Anne would never have had to worry about this. Elizabeth would have grown up having a steady set of two parents, compared to a constantly-changing series of stepmothers and a father who was convinced she was not even his child half the time.  
Jane was so caught up in guilt that she didn’t realize Anne had stopped crying and was now peering up at Jane from her position on the bed.   
“Jane!”. That shocked her out of the spell, however. Looking at Anne, she tried to hide the tears falling down her face. Anne had barely managed to explain the reason for her tears before collapsing on the bed, and here was Jane, acting like it was her own baby in that situation! She was so selfish!  
“Jane!” Anne repeated. Jane looked slightly spooked.  
“What’s wrong, Anne? Do you want me to get you some water? I’m sure I could-”. Anne cut her off.  
“Stop feeling guilty, Jane. It’s not your fault. You did what was expected of you, and you died in childbirth. Totally nothing you did. Don’t feel you did this.”. Jane folded slightly inward, deflating a bit. She knew she shouldn’t feel guilty, but she couldn’t help it!   
Jane felt a gentle hand touch her shoulder and jumped a little, relaxing as Anne wrapped her arms around her. The two queens just held each other for what seemed like hours, both crying heavily for the small girl they had known. She had grown to be such a big, powerful woman. But right now, they couldn’t think of her as an adult. Elizabeth had only been a girl, just fourteen. Nowadays, she would be just starting high school. She had been so young.

Some time later, Anne moved abruptly, so suddenly that Jane almost fell off of the bed. The brunette reached over to her bedside table, plucking a book off of the towering stack and handing it to her friend. Jane opened it carefully, almost reverently, so as to not damage the pages of the thing that was sure to provide Anne comfort. She choked back a small sob at the sight of the artist’s rendering of Elizabeth as a toddler. They’d done a fairly good job, she thought. Not quite perfect, but of course, who could expect that of them? Looking beside her, she could see that Anne had grabbed a different book from the table, and was now leafing through it as well, a contemplative look on her face. Understanding that the other woman didn’t wish to talk at the moment, Jane wisely continued to read her book, eager to learn more about the girl that was so precocious and adorable as a child, and so strong and powerful as a grown woman. The girl that was Anne’s daughter, but not for the ways Henry and her half-sister Mary had cursed her for. The ways such as the shrewd intelligence, the beauty, the love for fashion, even the Tudor temper was partially Anne’s doing. Henry had contributed to the girl, but even from beyond the grave, Anne had gotten the last laugh. Her daughter, a girl that was equally her and Henry, had been the most brilliant monarch in that time, if not of all Britain.

Jane’s poor little boy hadn’t been that for England, but Jane was glad that Elizabeth had been all Henry had wanted from the boy he had craved so desperately he killed his wife. She wasn’t one to swear, but this was a big fuck-you. And honestly, she liked it. 

Anne closed the book quietly, trying not to wake the woman sleeping next to her. They’d been reading with no disturbance for a few hours now, or at least she had been. She’d been too enthralled with the book she was currently devouring to notice Jane drifting off, and now felt bad that she had forced the other queen to stay with her when she was obviously exhausted.  
Turning to her bedside table, she placed the book down gently and made to turn off the lamp, but a hand placed softly on her arm stopped her. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed Jane had awoken, and was now staring at her with a kind, caring look on her face that reminded her of her own mother, of far-off days spent at Hever with maids chasing after her and George helping her hide in trees, their mother smiling begrudgingly and their father beaming. Thinking of times before her father’s brain became poisoned with ambition upset her, and she forced her mind back to the present day.   
“I’m sorry for keeping you here when you were tired, Jane. You should have told-”. Jane cut her off gently.  
“No, love. I want to be here, unless you’d like me to leave.” she responded. Anne’s shoulders instantly relaxed.  
“Please stay, Jane. Tell me about her. What was she like? I read a story about her speaking in French, and Henry, Henry saying “je suis en famille”. Was she with family? Was she happy?”. Jane squeezed her arm lightly, calming Anne down.  
“She was beautiful, Anne. Just like you.”. The brunette smiled sadly. When she turned to look at Jane again, tears had gathered in her eyes, and she could barely open her mouth to speak.  
“I-did she speak of me? I read a book that said-that said…” Anne tried to continue, waving away the tissue Jane offered. “I read a book that said she never talked about me, that she thought I was a - a whore.”. Jane gasped slightly.  
“Anne, even I know that isn’t true! Haven’t you heard about the locket ring?”. Anne looked even more broken than before, so Jane continued. “Lizzie had a ring made, Anne, that had a portrait of you hidden in it. She apparently never took it off until she died. Does that sound like she thought you were guilty?”. Anne shrugged non committedly.  
“I guess. I just feel so guilty, Jane. I know there was nothing I could do, but if I had just held my tongue, had just turned a blind eye, had just controlled my temper, I wouldn’t have lost my babies. She would have been fine!”. Jane shook her head.  
“Anne. She was okay, love. She became Queen! Everyone knows her name, everyone knows her legacy. You need to be proud. That girl was half you. Don’t feel guilty, you can’t control the past.”.  
“I know,” Anne murmured. “I am proud. That’s my baby, y’know? I carried her, I gave birth to her, I gave her pretty clothes and gave her all the attention I could. I never thought she’d become who she did, but I knew she was destined for good things. I just miss her. I miss her tiny little hands, her curious eyes, her beautiful hair, her sweet little voice. Knowing that a man took some of that innocence I remember so dearly just- it just breaks me, Jane.”. Jane nodded.  
“I know, love.”  
“And knowing my friend didn’t stop it, it hurts! I wish I could go back there and execute the bastard myself, but I can’t. All I can do is read about it and cry. That’s it!”.   
Jane moved closer to Anne, wrapping the woman in a tight hug. Anne leaned in, crying heavily, and let her friend console her.   
They fell asleep like that, and Jane’s last coherent thought was that Henry would have had a coronary to see his “sweet Jane” comforting his “whore” in such a way, over such a thing. To be honest, she kinda wished she could see his face. It would give Anne a good laugh, and god knows she needed one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, does anyone need a Kleenex? I don't cry, but maybe someone did. idk.  
> please review and tell me what you thought! or tell me your thoughts on something random going down in your life.  
> I'll start, I'm having an intense moral battle on whether or not I want to spend 20 pounds a month of my hard-earned Canadian dollars on aimie's patreon thing. tell me your thoughts.


	3. The Casualties We Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aragon and Kitty talk about what they've recently learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, how's everyone doing? things are really falling apart right now in the world, so I wanted to post this chapter (where things slightly fall apart in the fictional world) and hopefully take you away from your life for a little bit.  
> this chapter contains major momma aragon, which is my favourite way to write her, in case you couldn't tell.  
> please read and leave a comment about anything you like:) the kleenex from last week are, of course, available to anyone who needs them.
> 
> this chapter is dedicated to naya marie rivera (1987-2020).   
> naya, you have changed my life in ways you don't and will never know. fly high, angel, and I hope wherever you are, you know how much we all love you. you died saving your son, and we will never forget you.  
> love, quinn<3

Closing the door as quietly as she could behind her, Aragon led the quivering girl in her arms to the bed in the middle of the white room. Kitty sat down slowly, like she needed to process it before she did it. She began fingering the frayed bits of rope on the end of the yellow blanket Aragon used on cold nights, anxiously brushing the fabric between her fingers until Catalina placed a soft hand on hers. Only then did she look up, an expression that Aragon could only match to the one Mary had given her when she’d done something wrong.  
“No, love. You can keep playing with the blanket.” Catalina murmured softly, tracing a heart on Kitty’s hand gently. Kitty nodded gratefully, and resumed the fiddling. Looking at the younger queen, Aragon felt an overwhelming maternal instinct seep into her bones, even more than there had been previously. Kitty just looked so little, and lost, and so-.  
Like Mary.  
Like the beautiful little girl she’d cradled so carefully on the day of her birth, afraid she would break, afraid she’d be out for a walk or out with her ladies and someone would come up to her, a somber expression on their face, fiddling hands, to tell her the same thing she’d heard so many times before.  
It didn’t make it hurt any less, of course.   
But Mary had lived, had lived through that first month of life that her poor brother the New Year’s Prince hadn’t, had lived through the first year, and Catalina had dared to hope. When she had lost the right to see her daughter, it felt like part of her had been ripped out.   
She could remember Mary’s face the last time she’d seen her beautiful little girl, full of hurt and confusion, but a layer of maturity that, even though her daughter was a serious child, she had never seen before. Catalina had wanted to scoop her up into her arms forever, rock her back and forth and whisper about how it was all going to be alright.  
Kitty looked so like her then, hurt and confused, but grown, in an odd way that put you off slightly.   
“Katherine, love?”. Kitty’s head poked up quickly.  
“Yes, Lina?”. She looked like she was going to fall apart any minute, her big eyes full of tears that were threatening to spill over the sides and run down her face.  
“Sweetheart, do you want to talk about it?”. Kitty shook her head quickly.  
“No, no thank you.”. Aragon sighed.  
“Alright, hun. Please tell me if I can do anything to help.”. Kitty nodded, and Aragon resumed her heart-tracing.  
They stayed like this for several minutes, the only sound being the quiet sniffles from Kitty and the heart-wrenching sobs that you could hear coming from Anne’s room if you strained your ears, which Aragon was decidedly trying not to do. Eventually, Kitty moved so suddenly that Catalina almost jumped.   
“Lina?” Kitty peeped in the quietest voice Catalina had heard her use.  
“Yes, love?”. The younger woman blushed a heavy pink.  
“Um-do you think you could sing me a song? Like, one you used to sing to Mary? I don’t want to intrude on anything you share with her, I just-”. Catalina cut her off firmly.  
“Of course I can. Just give me a second, it’s been a long time since I had anyone to sing lullabies to.”.  
Closing her eyes, she began to sing an old song she remembered from her childhood at Alhambra, a song of love, loss, and family. Kitty’s eyes slowly shut as well, and Aragon continued to sing, brushing stray pieces of hair off her face lovingly. The beheaded queen had by now melted fully into Catalina’s body, and though she didn’t know it, Aragon was blinking away tears as she sang, remembering another little girl generations ago, begging for the same song, cuddling to her mother in the same way.

When she had finished the song, Aragon thought Kitty had drifted off, so she moved slightly to pull the blanket over them, but a small voice stopped her.  
“Lina, I’d like to talk now.”. Kitty looked utterly bedraggled, tear tracks running down her face, her clothes wrinkled, hair coming out of the careful ponytail she’d put up earlier. Catalina squeezed her hand tightly.  
“Go ahead, mi amor.”  
“Okay, um…” Kitty trailed off, looking at Aragon for reassurance. “I-I don’t know how to start.”.   
“Why don’t I ask you questions about how you’re feeling, and you can answer them? If you don’t want to answer, just say pass. Does that work?”. The nod she received confirmed the response, and so she swallowed heavily.  
“Well, how are you feeling?”  
“I feel angry.” Kitty responded. “No, sad! Sad and angry. I feel responsible, too.”  
Aragon felt a piece of her heart break just a little bit.  
“Why do you feel responsible, Kit?”  
“I don’t know, I just,” Kitty shook her head, fingering the frayed rope even more frantically now. “I keep thinking that if I hadn’t gotten caught, if I’d held Tom off, maybe I would have lived, maybe Henry wouldn’t have married Cathy, maybe she’d have been living with me or with Anna, away from that terrible man.”. Aragon shook her head.  
“Maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe. You can’t change the past, love. It happened, it sucked big time, but nothing that happened with Elizabeth was your fault. Do not take the responsibility for something you don’t deserve.”. Kitty nodded, giggling a little bit, which surprised Catalina.   
“Why are you laughing?’. Kitty giggled even more, causing Aragon to shake her head.  
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say ‘sucked big time’ before! That sounded so weird coming out of your mouth.”. The first queen smacked her hand to her forehead, trying not to giggle. To her consternation, a small one slipped out. Kitty let loose a full belly laugh, and Aragon joined her hesitantly.  
“It was a little awkward to say, if I’m being truly honest.” she admitted. Looking over at the younger girl, she saw an expression of glee, freedom, and youth. It was so unlike the Kitty of a few moments ago that she got distracted and didn’t even notice the large pillow flying at her head until it was too late.  
“Oh! You little-”  
She never did get a chance to finish that sentence, for Kitty clobbed her again. Grabbing another pillow from the pile next to her bed (thank god for her odd obsession with throw pillows), Aragon joined in, throwing the pillow at Kitty with a reckless joy she hadn’t felt for as long as she could remember, this life or last.  
They played pillow fight for a long time, the sun going down in the backdrop as they continued to hit each other with soft, fluffy fabric and stuffing. Eventually, though, they did get tired, and collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily.  
“Lina?” Kitty whispered quietly. Aragon looked over at her.  
“Yes, love?”  
“Thank you.”. The small sentence was said with such a heaviness to it that even Donald Trump himself couldn’t mistake the meaning, all the feelings that Kitty was trying to convey to the older woman. Aragon looked Kitty deeply in the eyes.  
“No, mi amor. Thank you.”.   
With that, Kitty began to cry again, and Aragon wrapped her arms tightly around her, shushing the girl and stroking her back with the care only a mother could give. She shed a few tears too, thinking of the girl she knew, the girl whose childhood had been ripped away from her, the girl who was already a woman by the time any of the other queens had known her, her own baby. Thinking of Mary led her to think of Elizabeth, a girl who she had never known personally, but another Tudor girl who had lost her childhood, a girl who she felt as though she knew through everyone’s stories, and Aragon began to cry into Kitty’s shirt.  
They weren’t healed yet. They were a long way from there, in fact. But they would help each other get there, and things would slowly but surely become easier, get better.   
Aragon just wished there hadn’t been so many casualties along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, how did we like that?  
> please let me know, it gives me a shot of joy every time I see someone left me a review!  
> -quinn


	4. What Made You Do It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cleves and Parr have a discussion, with Cleves asking an important question: why did Cathy hide the truth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's popping pals? I've just finished The Tudors, and I have a lot of questions, but overall I think it's a really good show and that I'm going to rewatch just for Natalie Dormer as our homegirl Anne. she kills the performance, and I think it's one of the best portrayals of her.   
> anyways watch the tudors.  
> also read this chapter, because I didn't listen to my Santana Lopez playlist while making this so I could feel sad for you to just ignore it. (love you naya)  
> thanks, read and review because I didn't get proper presents this year for my birthday because of corona (it was in march so everything was still closed) and I want something to make me happy.  
> love you all

Anna and Cathy were still in the kitchen. The German queen was brushing her fingers together to a beat only she could hear, looking highly uncomfortable, and Parr was simply staring straight ahead, lost in the past. Tears were filling up her wide eyes, running rivers down her cheeks, dripping onto the counter. She wasn’t crying, but they were coming out anyways, though she tried so hard to stop them. Crying brought back memories of her past (you’re so mature, so unlike...the last one), of things she hadn’t been able to do, of smiling men and Catholic priests, of her elder stepdaughter’s beaming smile turning hard and poisonous.   
She’d cried for all those things before, had cried alone in her chambers (well, as alone as a queen could ever get), had wiped the tears and stood up, going to comfort Henry in his old age. She couldn’t cry this time, not for this. She didn’t deserve to cry over this. Tears could be heard coming from upstairs, tears Parr recognized as Anne’s, great, heaping sobs coming from the woman who she had hurt in a way she could never know. No, Cathy Parr didn’t deserve to cry over this.  
Cleves stirred slightly, causing Cathy to turn her tear-filled eyes to the woman, her heart stopping for a fraction of a second. What must Anna think of her? She’d loved Elizabeth, had asked for permission to see the small child after Henry had divorced her, had said being her mother was more of a joy than being queen. Cleves never would have let this happen to the young girl Cathy could see so clearly in her memories, a girl who, now she knew Anne, was really the perfect mix of both her parents.   
A voice jolted Parr out of her poisoned mind, making her look up.

“You know, she’ll forgive you.” Anna said, looking into Cathy’s eyes and holding them sternly. The final queen shook her head sadly.  
“She shouldn’t. I don’t deserve to be forgiven.”  
As soon as she finished her sentence, Parr started slightly, for as the final word left her mouth, Anna had grabbed her hand. The grip was gentle, but the hold was firm.   
“Listen to me, Catherine. We all have things that happened in our past we need to move on from, things we wish to forget, things that keep us up at night. But we all love each other. Anne is upset, and from what I’ve read and heard she kinda has every right to be. She needs time to heal, time to process, and most of all, I think she needs to hear what really went down from your side of the story.”. The final sentence made Cathy try to pull her hand away, but Anna continued to hold tight. “Cathy, she loves you. But she loves her baby more, and right now she’s worried about her. Did this happen nearly 500 years ago? Yes. But does it make her any less upset and anxious? No, in fact I think it makes her even more anxious, because she can’t do anything about it. You need to tell her your version of events so her mind can be put slightly at ease, and so you can feel less guilty. And to start, you’re going to tell me why you didn’t tell us sooner, and then we’re going to bed.”. Parr looked anxiously back into Anna’s kind eyes, feeling like a dog chased into a corner by a pack of wolves. But she knew this would help, even though she didn’t want to do it, so Cathy nodded slowly.  
“Could we go to the living room though?”. The request was so quiet Cleves had to strain to hear it, but hear it she did, and she nodded, taking Parr’s hand more carefully and leading her into the next room. Sitting down on the big couch and grabbing the second fluffiest blanket, she tossed the fluffiest blanket and Kitty’s second favourite stuffed animal, Esmerelda Leslie Middleton the elephant (don’t ask) to Parr, who accepted them gratefully.   
Opening her mouth and closing it a few times, Parr thought over what she wanted to say before she said it, just like she’d been trained to do since birth. Feeling Cleves’ eyes on her should have felt like the noose being tightened around her neck, but instead it felt comforting, warm almost. Knowing Anna wouldn’t judge her, at least not out loud, she opened her mouth and spoke.  
“Everyone sees me as this great, mature matriarch who took the broken pieces of the royal family and pieced them back together. If they actually care enough to watch a documentary or read a book, even enough to watch a television show, they see me as a poor, heartbroken woman who was forced to marry a gross old man instead of the one she loved. Others see me as this renowned scholar, an early feminist who helped educate young girls and published books. Everyone has so many different perceptions of me, and that’s how it’s always been, my whole life, especially as Queen. Some people pitied me for having to marry an old wife-murderer, some people praised me as their Protestant queen who would help further the cause of reform in England, and still others saw me as a heretic, someone who deserved to burn. Even my own stepdaughter, Mary, had so many different perceptions of me that I never knew where I stood after a few years of knowing her.   
But I came here, and you all saw me at first as the lucky one who got to survive, but we got to know each other and everyone just saw me as me. I didn’t want to mess that up, didn’t want to let you know a story that I am so ashamed of, a story that keeps me up at night. I couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in your faces, and here I am now, seeing the same hurt I feared. I failed in so many ways, but I didn’t want to fail here too. And now I suppose I have. I need to talk to Anne, I need to tell her my side of the story, help her make sense of what happened, but I was just so ashamed, Anna. I was supposed to take care of her daughter, was supposed to help her grow up! And I ruined it, knowledge I have to live with, that haunts me every day. I just wanted to live somewhere without all the different perceptions and opinions that hurt me so much at court. I’m so sorry, Anna.”.  
Parr had been flat out sobbing by the time she finished, and Cleves gathered the younger woman into her arms, rubbing her back and pulling her into a hug.  
“Shhh, meine liebe. I think I understand where you’re coming from, and Anne will eventually as well. It will take time, but all things worth fighting for do. Right now, we’re going to go to sleep, and in the morning, we’ll have some breakfast and you’ll go talk to Anne. But only if she wants you to, okay?”  
“Okay…” mumbled Parr, already half asleep. Cleves nodded and continued to rub her back, letting the gentle touches lull the girl into full slumber. Once she was satisfied Cathy was really and truly sleeping, she laid her head down on the pillow and closed her eyes.  
This was a mess. But, it was a mess worth salvaging, a mess that was begging to be cleaned and straightened up, put back on the shelf a little banged up, but all the better for it. And she’d be damned if she didn’t help the mess get fixed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks mates. don't you just love crying over historical characters mashed with fiction? yeah, same.  
> anyways leave a comment I'm lonely my best friend is far away from me and I can't see her.


	5. Francis the French Fish, or Elizabeth doesn't like that name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne finally reveals her inner thoughts to us, goes into a quick flashback of happier times, and comes to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, it's been a while, huh? I'm so sorry! work and online summer school (for an early credit) have kept me busy, and then I wasn't in a very good place to write depressing stuff. unfortunately, that's all I seem to be able to write. 
> 
> but here's the next chapter. we're so close to the end, everyone! 
> 
> please, please, PLEASE continue to wear a mask and social distance. also, if you're reading my story and you haven't done anything to support the black lives matter movement, please kindly get on that, luv. 
> 
> anyways, I hope you all enjoy this! also, I read a book recently called "the secret diary of anne boleyn" by robin maxwell. it isn't super historically accurate (at least not to my very judging eye), but it gives so many anne and elizabeth feels. I cried at work.

Anne woke up to a hollow, empty feeling in her chest, her hair a mess, and her eyes sore and red. It was still dark outside, the stars that she’d known since her childhood smiling down through the window. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, at least for a while, Anne gently moved Jane’s arm off of her and tiptoed out of the room, grabbing her favourite blanket. Moving through the silent house, she noted that Cathy was with Anna in the living room, Aragon with Kitty in the first queen’s bedroom, and Jane was obviously still in Anne’s own room. It was always good to know these things so she could plot her path back to her room. 

Slipping through the front door, she padded out to the garden, where Jane and Aragon had set up a quiet little corner. Smiling faintly at the memory of the first day after they’d gotten it all together, where she and Kitty ran around like banshees in the garden until Jane finally snapped, throwing them shovels and telling them to help “or leave the garden”, she sat down on the soft bench. It was decorated with some of the throw pillows they’d confiscated from Aragon’s room after it was determined that she had an unhealthy obsession. She smiled at the memory of Cathy pleading with her godmother to give up a certain pillow Aragon had said ‘smelt like berries’, but quickly suppressed the memory. 

Cathy didn’t deserve her happy thoughts.  
She pulled the blanket as tight around her as possible, staring up at the starry sky. Tears gathered in those dark eyes she’d always been so famed for, and Anne tried to fight back the emotions. She was known, even then, for being too passionate, too outspoken, so different from the Spanish queen who had held her tongue until her husband most desperately wanted her to keep it still. Now, in the 21st century, it wasn’t as much of a crime to be loud and opinionated if you were female, but Anne still had a really hard time letting herself be free with feelings when she felt threatened.   
She had thought she’d been a person the others could go to when they needed to talk. Anne had never really had female friends, preferring men to the dainty, frivolous ladies that had been her companions, and that had helped to kill her. Now, she was trying her hardest to be open and compassionate, but this cut her deeply. Why wouldn’t Cathy tell her? Anne would have been upset, probably would have yelled. She wasn’t so unaware of herself that she would deny that. But she didn’t think that the wound would have been as deep. Having to find out from a book that a man, the brother of one of her best friends, the husband of another, had stolen some of her daughter’s innocence, what had probably been the last bit of an already highly-depleted source.  
Anne knew that many things had stolen her precious baby’s innocence. Her execution had been the tipping point, sending the line of dominoes tipping at a rapid pace. This was just one of the final blocks on the tower.   
Still, this was one of the worst things she could have imagined for her girl. She’d known Elizabeth had lost her mother at a young age, had lost a rapid succession of step-mothers at an alarming rate, had been the daughter of a father who switched rapidly between ignoring her completely and giving her scraps of attention. But men taking some of that sweetness Anne had known for such a short time hurt perhaps worse than all the other offenses combined, at least for right now. She was pretty sure that the way Henry had treated their baby, the girl he had once adored and petted like she was the most darling thing in the world, would replace the bastard Thomas Seymour eventually. Right now, though, she would like nothing more than to have been the executioner who killed the man, to do the deed herself.

From the moment Elizabeth had been born, she’d felt the most immense need to protect something that she had ever known in her life. The small baby, red and screaming, had been placed on her chest, all the ladies around her bowing with apologetic looks on their faces. She’d felt a hole go through her chest when they had told her the baby, the boy she had promised, the whole reason Henry had gone through all this trouble, was nothing but a girl. That all changed a second later, when screaming Elizabeth had been placed on her chest and the infant had immediately stopped crying, looking into her mother’s eyes with a wisdom that Anne swore was there even then. Anne had begun to cry for an entirely different reason, staring into her own eyes in the most darling little thing’s face. She’d sworn then and there that nothing would ever hurt her little girl, not if she could help it.  
But she hadn’t been able to do anything about it.  
Looking up at the night sky, she felt herself drift off to sleep, thinking of a time when she was the happiest she’d been in a long time.

\------Early December, 1534----------------------  
“Make way for the Queen! Make way for her Majesty!”  
Queen Anne Boleyn swept through the many rooms of Greenwich Palace, her hand strategically placed right on top of her swollen stomach. The gesture did not fail to remind the courtiers of exactly the respect she was due, and as the queen continued to walk through, they dropped into their bows and curtsies.  
Anne did not care for this pomp and circumstance that she had been desperately craving for so many years. She had a destination in mind, and no snivelling crooks as such that reside at court was going to tear her from her path. Striding through the great oak doors that her final destination lay behind, a large smile overtook her face and she stopped, letting the doors close behind her.  
“Elizabeth! Oh, my own heart!”  
The two-year-old princess was standing shakily with her governess, Lady Bryan, but when she saw her Mama come through the door, a toothy smile lit up the tiny face that was so like her father’s. Looking up at Lady Bryan, the small girl bobbed a tiny curtsey, then toddled over to her mother, nearly falling on her. Anne merely laughed brightly, bending down to her daughter’s height and looking her straight in the eye.  
“Hello, my darling girl. Have you come to court for Christmas?”. Elizabeth nodded quickly, making her mother laugh once again.  
“Yes, Mama!”.   
“Have you been a good girl for Lady Bryan? Not too much trouble, I hope?” she said, directing the last part to the governess, who shook her head, smiling. Elizabeth turned slightly red.  
“Yes Mama.” she murmured into Anne’s skirts.   
“Good. Now come here, my sweet girl. I’ve missed you.” Anne replied, trying not to let herself show just how much she’d truly missed the bright girl standing in front of her. Gathering Elizabeth up in a tight hug, she placed a kiss to the top of the head she loved so much. “Now, what would you like to do, my darling?”. Elizabeth looked contemplative for a second, tilting her head in a way that reminded Anne slightly of herself, before beaming.  
“Fish!”. Anne shifted the small girl on her hip so she could better see the darling face and looked at her, tears coming to her eyes at her baby.  
“You want to go see the fish in the fountain with Mama? I think that sounds like a lovely idea. Come along, Elizabeth. We’ll go just us, thank you, Lady Bryan. Please unpack the Princess’ clothes, as she’ll be here for some time.”. Gently touching Elizabeth’s nose, she swept out of the room in a very different manner than how she’d entered it.

It was an unusual thing, to be alone with Elizabeth, Anne mused to herself as she carefully carried her little girl over to the fountain she loved so much. She definitely wasn’t fully alone, as she could feel the eyes of her ladies and some of her guards on her back. That was what she had signed up for as Queen, she supposed. At least she was able to visit Elizabeth often, and she tried to do so as much as possible.   
Anne was broken from her musings by a tiny hand tugging at her skirts.  
“Mama! Fish!”. Bending down, careful not to hurt the savior inside of her in some way, Anne took her daughter’s little hand.   
“I see, my darling! It’s a very nice fish. What shall we call it?”. Elizabeth pondered this for a moment, her small head tilted in thought.  
“Um...Anne. Like you, mama.”. Anne’s heart swelled with love when she said that, and she gave the toddler a tight hug.  
“Thank you, love. I think we should name one Lizzie for you, darling.”. Elizabeth nodded quickly.  
“Yes, mama!”. Bending over the fountain, she began looking at the rest of the fish inside and trying to pick one out. Anne placed a careful hand around her to ensure she didn’t fall in and began to cry slightly, hiding her tears as much as possible from her daughter. Luckily, Elizabeth remained oblivious and quickly tapped her mother on the skirt, gesturing to one of the smaller fish.  
“That one’s me, because she’s swimming with the Mama fish, and the Mama fish loves her, just like you love me!” the toddler beamed, very proud of herself. Anne tried to hide the tears that came even faster at that remark, but Elizabeth noticed, and she gave her mother a peck on the cheek.   
“Don’t cry, mama! Let’s name this fish George for Uncle George, see how he’s swimming funny? I like him.”. Anne smiled slightly and bent her head farther down towards the fountain.  
“That’s a lovely idea, sweetheart. Shall we name the fish with Uncle George fish Jane for your Aunt?”. Elizabeth scrunched her nose up and shook her head, shaking it heavily.  
“No, I don’t like the name Jane.”. Anne almost laughed out loud at that remark, but gently shook her head, letting Elizabeth know not to say that anymore.   
“Alright, love. Let’s name that fish Parker then, after the family Aunt Jane used to be.”  
“Oh, yes! And that one can be Francis the fish, because you lived in France!”  
“That’s right, Elizabeth. Have you been practising your French, ma cherie?  
“Oui, Maman!” she chirped.  
“Trés bien, Elizabeth!” Anne praised, pride filling her chest at the pretty language of her teen years being spoken by her most special thing. “Which one shall be the Papa fish?”. Truthfully, she didn’t really want to include Henry in their fish family, but Elizabeth must never know the tension between her parents. It would only serve to upset her, and Anne would sacrifice anything to keep the innocent smile on the tiny face.   
“What’s this about a Papa fish?”. Henry. He came around the corner of the palace, a proud smile on his face. Elizabeth’s head immediately went up at the sound, and she turned towards Henry.  
“Papa!” she exclaimed, skipping the curtsey protocol and running right to her father instead. Chuckling, Henry scooped up his younger daughter, touching her nose gently and swinging her into a big hug.  
“Hello, my Elizabeth. Did you miss me?”  
“Oh, yes, Papa! Mama comes to visit, but I miss you when you don’t come.” she said sadly. Henry frowned sympathetically.   
“I understand, my princess, but Papa has lots of work to do. I’ve missed you too, you know. Now, what’s this about a Papa fish?”. Elizabeth grinned widely.  
“There’s pretty fishies in the fountain, and Mama and I named them! There’s Mama fish, and Lizzie fish, and George fish, and Parker fish, and Francis fish! But we need a Papa fish. Will you help us?”. Henry beamed, setting her down carefully.  
“Of course, Elizabeth. If Mama would like me to.”. Anne looked over at her husband, meeting his eyes. She read nothing but love. He must be in a good mood, so she decided to make the most of it.  
“Come join us, Henry. Elizabeth has done a splendid job not falling in the fountain, but I fear I may need reinforcements soon, what with the way she’s been leaning in.”. Elizabeth giggled, grabbing Henry’s hand and leading him over to the fountain.  
“Help, Papa!”. Henry knelt down next to Anne, placing a soft kiss on her lips, then focusing his attention on her swollen stomach, placed a careful kiss on the precious bump.   
“Hello, my loves.” he murmured. Turning back towards the fountain, he cleared his throat. “So, Princess Elizabeth, what exactly are we looking for in a Papa fish?”. As Elizabeth chattered away in her little voice, Anne looked on fondly, stroking her stomach. Elizabeth and Henry were so alike, she knew a son would be just as amazing as her beautiful girl. This pregnancy would end in a healthy son. It had to. 

For now, though, Anne would enjoy this lovely moment, one she knew she would treasure forever. The memory of her sweet little daughter and the man she still loved with a burning passion sharing such a domestic moment, something hard to come by in a family such as theirs. In a few years, perhaps, she could share something like this with her son, Elizabeth showing him her favourite fish, while Henry and Anne looked on in pride.  
\--------------------------Present Day----------------------------  
“Anne!”  
Anne awoke to Jane standing over her, looking concerned, and holding a plate with toast and fruit. Sitting up and stretching, she rubbed her eyes with her hands, wincing slightly as they came back wet and the dream came rushing back to her in all its glory. Looking up into Jane’s concerned face, she patted the space next to her. Jane handed her the plate and sat down.  
“Bad dream?”. Her voice was soft and calming, making Anne instantly relax. Nodding, she took a bite of the toast.  
“I dreamt of my last pregnancy. Lizzie and I-we were feeding the fish in the fountain, and Henry came to join us, and we felt like a real family. I always loved moments like those, and I-I just miss them.” she broke off, a slight sob coming into her voice. Deciding to leave the fact that Jane had unknowingly been a part of her dream out, she grabbed the toast and took another bite.

“I’m sorry, Anne.” Jane said softly, rubbing the other queen on the back. Anne looked over at her, toast bulging out of her mouth as she tried to frantically reassure Jane that she had nothing to do with everything, as usual. “No, love. I am sorry. Not for my role, although you do know how sorry I am for that. I’m sorry for Elizabeth. I understand the pain of being ripped away from your child and only being able to read things about them 500 years later, and I’m sorry you have to feel that too.”. Anne gave her a grateful smile, pulling her successor into a tight hug that lasted for several minutes before she pulled away.  
“I think I need to talk to Cathy.”. Jane smiled.  
“I think that would be a good idea.”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all enjoyed this!
> 
> anyone who's feeling sad, dm me @gleefully_musical on instagram and we'll talk.
> 
> arrest. the killers. of breonna. taylor.


	6. A Long-Overdue Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cathy and Anne finally talk it out. Jane stress bakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is guys! The climax of this story!
> 
> I'm so sorry for making you wait for so long. I've found this chapter incredibly hard to write, because the history nerd inside of me is trying to make this as accurate as possible with what we know. But we don't know that much, and my inner fiction writer needed to take it in some directions that we don't have confirmation for. Oh well, no one knows what really went down. I've tried to paint as accurate a picture as I can.
> 
> Please review! I love hearing what you think!
> 
> I do use lines and staging from Showtime's series "The Tudors", Season 2, Episode 8. I don't own it, although I wish I did so I could meet Natalie Dormer. If you catch the reference, let me know!

Fresh from her talk with Jane, Anne walked upstairs to her room slower than any of the others had seen her walk before. She was deep in thought, and continued to be that way while she got ready for the day, nearly burning her face with her straightening iron because she wasn’t paying attention. Eventually, though, she was dressed, her hair was put up, and she was ready to go. This confrontation had been put off long enough, she needed to face her fears.

Cathy was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at a book she hadn’t even bothered to check the title of. The words were all blended together anyways, so it didn’t matter. Sighing, she was about to try to actually read when a movement to her left caused her to look up. Anne had walked into the room, and was standing over Cathy’s left shoulder, looking uncomfortable. Putting the book down, Cathy patted the space across from her and gestured for Anne to take it.

“Thank you.” she murmured softly, sitting down with none of her usual reckless abandon. Cathy smiled sadly.  
“Don’t mention it.”. Anne shrugged, then looked down to her hands, which were holding a plate of toast.  
“I figured you hadn’t eaten breakfast, so I brought you some toast, but if you were looking for something else I can-”  
“Toast is lovely, thank you, Anne.” Cathy cut her off, taking the toast gingerly from her friend’s slightly clenched hands.

A slightly awkward silence fell over the room, both women looking to the ground. Cathy took a small bite of toast, fully aware of just how much sound the crunch was making.   
Anne spoke first.  
“Why didn’t you tell me?”  
The quiet question was so full of hurt that Cathy immediately tensed up, trying not to let tears come into her eyes. She looked up slowly, meeting Anne’s eyes, noticing the swirl of emotions running rampant inside them. Fiddling with the plate in her hands, she shook her head slowly.  
“My whole life has been me trying to fit the expectations people put on me, trying to mould myself to their perceptions of who Catherine Parr really was. I’ve worn so many hats, I didn’t really know who I was without them.”. Taking a breath, Cathy noticed that Anne was nodding along slowly, so she swallowed hard and continued. “When we got this second chance, it was like I got to redo my life, start fresh. None of you knew me very well in our past lives, if you knew me at all. I finally got to find out who I was without all the baggage of who people thought I was supposed to be weighing me down. I wanted to be less of a failure.” she choked out, trying not to cry. Anne’s eyes filled with concern.  
“Cathy, you’re not a failure.” she said levelly, taking the other girl’s hand and rubbing the back of it with her finger.   
“But I am. I finally got this chance to become who I wanted to be, but I forgot everything I left behind. I didn’t want to tell you all about-about Elizabeth, because I was so ashamed of myself. I was so concerned about looking perfect, about being the perception of Catherine Parr that I wanted myself to be, that I ignored the people I hurt in my last life. I’m so incredibly sorry, Anne. I know I’ve broken your trust, but I promise you that you can ask me anything and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”she finished, glancing at Anne before bringing her gaze to her lap. Feeling a quick squeeze of her hand, Cathy looked up. 

Anne was fully crying now, but she pulled Cathy into a tight hug.  
“Thank you for the apology, Cathy.” she whispered softly. “I’m sorry you felt so much pressure that you had to do this.”. Cathy smiled slightly, pulling back to look Anne in the eyes. Anne squeezed her hands tightly. “But I need to know, from you, what happened. I’ve read you probably didn’t know a lot, that they tried to conceal most of it from you. Please, please just tell me whatever you know.”.  
Her big eyes were filled with tears and she looked so desperate, so like another memory of Cathy’s she’d pushed away, that Cathy sighed and squeezed her hands.  
“I’ll tell you whatever I can, but you need to tell me if you want a break. I understand this could possibly be very taxing for you.”. Anne nodded quickly, overeager to finally hear the one thing that she knew she needed to know. This would break her, she was fully aware, but she needed to understand.

“Alright. I’ll start at the beginning of where Elizabeth came in. To set the stage slightly, do you want a brief overview of everything?”. Anne nodded slowly, not trusting herself to speak. “Okay, I’ll do that, then. As you know, Henry died on January 28, 1547, at Whitehall. Edward obviously became king right after, at nine. Since Elizabeth was still young, and because she still needed to continue her schooling, she came to live with me at Chelsea after Henry’s burial on February 16. I had thought that Thomas would wish to marry me after Henry was out of the picture, since we had nearly gotten there before Henry started pursuing me in 1542. However, I didn’t hear anything from him for a while. Later, I found out that he had been making inquiries about him marrying 13-year-old Elizabeth, I think because he was jealous of the amount of power his brother had compared to him. The Privy Council said no, of course. Elizabeth’s marriage was a more delicate matter than that, she could be used for a political alliance. He apparently then requested the hand of Catalina’s Mary, which was partially supported by Edward, for he thought marriage to Protestant Thomas would change Mary’s Catholic opinions. This was declined, of course.

Realizing I was the only semi-royal bride left he had hope of claiming, Thomas finally came to visit me at Chelsea, and, oblivious to his previous intentions and fully in love, we began to meet secretly. Finally, by the end of April, we decided to marry, even though it was technically an indecent amount of time to wait after the death of my husband, especially because he was Henry. In May we were secretly married, we got Edward’s approval on May 30, and by the end of June it was public knowledge. Elizabeth approved as well, I think partially from joy at finally seeing a motherly figure have something to make her happy. The marriage severed my last bond to Mary, something I continue to regret. She never forgave me for marrying so hastily and thought Elizabeth should be removed from my household. 

Nevertheless, we were finally married, and I was happy and in love, which was somewhat of a novel idea for me. I believe it was around this time that the visits began, though of course I was unaware at the time.”. Cathy was cut off by Anne’s gentle hand on her arm, forcing her to look into the other woman’s eyes.  
“I’m sorry Thomas put you through that waiting.” Anne murmured quietly. Cathy shook her head.  
“It really wasn’t that bad, Anne. Or that long.”  
“Still, I know something of waiting for a marriage you want desperately, only to have people around you damn you for following your heart.” she said softly. Cathy’s heart squeezed in sympathy.   
“Thank you. Do you want me to continue?”  
“Well, I already know about all the different visits, and I’d rather not relive that. What I want to know is just your viewpoint on it all. I need to know how involved you were.”. Cathy nodded. That seemed fair.  
“Okay, I can do that. I’ll tell you about the time I finally found them together. It broke my heart, but you deserve to know.”

\------------June 11th, 1548------------  
Catherine Parr, Dowager Queen of England. That was her official title, she supposed, and yet she felt less and less like a queen with every passing day. 

The first blow had come when her stepdaughter Mary, who had once been a close confidante, had fully severed ties with her after Catherine’s hasty marriage to Thomas Seymour. Catherine missed the young woman dreadfully, yet she also knew that Mary had already been separated from her before the death of her father. She still had Elizabeth and Edward.

Yet, she did not have Edward. The small child was now a boy-king, she did not see him. This wasn’t much different from before his rise to the throne, but she had occasionally seen the small boy then, had been responsible for bringing the broken royal family- three children from three different mothers, a father who switched rapidly between loving and hating his two daughters he had proclaimed bastards, and the only boy of the family, the jewel of his father’s eye, shut away from others to protect him- back together again, or as together as they could be. She wrote letters to her stepson, of course, but she missed his little self, his personality.

Catherine thought she would be most miserable if she could not even write to the children she loved dearly, and thanked God every day that He had seen fit to allow Elizabeth to stay with her in order to continue her education. Lately, though, things had been happening concerning her younger step daughter that made Catherine quite worried.

It had started with the early morning visits. Thomas, Catherine’s husband, would apparently visit Elizabeth in bed, often before she was dressed, ignoring the teenager’s pleas for him to leave. Kat Ashley, Elizabeth’s governess, had informed her that her husband was behaving inappropriately towards her young charge, and Catherine had asked him to stop, but she did not believe he had. 

To Catherine’s great regret now, she had accompanied Thomas on two of his visits, joining him in tickling the young girl in her bed. She had thought it to be childish fun, maybe the sorts of things Henry would have done if he had actually been a father. Looking back, it had not been, and she wished with all her heart she had not done so.

Another time, she and Thomas had come across Elizabeth in drab garb outside in the gardens, causing them to tease her about her choice of clothing, always bland and boring. The girl had teased back, but there had been a slight nervous edge to her that had gone unnoticed by her lady stepmother. Catherine had even held Elizabeth while Thomas cut the gown into a hundred pieces, still believing it to be play.

She scolded herself for being so naive. Something was obviously going on here, and she needed to learn what it was. For the sake of the baby growing inside her, her mind needed to be at peace. 

Making up her mind, she stood up from the chair she had been sitting in, setting down the tiny garment she’d been embroidering for the little one still to come. She needed to clear her mind before she did anything, and taking a small walk would be the best remedy for the constant thoughts swirling around in her head. Gesturing to the ladies who had immediately stood up to follow her, Catherine left the room, heading wherever her feet chose to take her.

Her ladies following a small distance behind, Catherine turned a corner, feeling much more clear-headed. Spotting one of the rooms Elizabeth often frequented for her favourite pursuits, studying and reading, she smiled and picked up her pace slightly. Perhaps her stepdaughter would be inside, and she could surprise her. She knew things had been odd and confusing for the teenager lately, what with the loss of her father, the total change of her lifestyle, and, yes, even the pursuits of Thomas. Maybe they could do something together. Pushing the door open, Catherine stepped inside, a smile on her face.

And promptly stopped.  
“Oh my god! Oh my god, oh my god, what is this?”  
Inside the room was Elizabeth, as she’d suspected, books and paper scattered around on the tables. But she wasn’t alone.  
“What is this?” she breathed out, trying not to let her pain show.  
Her husband Thomas, the father of the babe she was carrying, had his arms around her stepdaughter, and she was perched on his knee, their faces far too close for Catherine’s comfort. Upon noticing Catherine’s arrival, Elizabeth quickly stood up and half-hid herself behind the chair Thomas was sitting in.

Catherine slammed the door.  
“What is going on?”. Thomas said nothing. “Tell me!” she screamed, much louder than she knew was decent.   
“Sweetheart-”  
“No! Just when my belly is doing it’s business, I find you alone with my stepdaughter!”  
“Elizabeth, you had best leave.” Thomas said in a low, hard voice. The girl nodded quickly and left the room, face as red as her hair, tears streaming down her face.  
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, the pain finally seeping into her voice.   
“Please, Catherine, calm down!” he seethed.  
“I want her gone! Do you hear me? I want her gone!”. Thomas looked surprised.  
“Catherine, you’re her guardian. Where is she to go?”  
“She may go to her governess Kat Ashley’s sister, Joan Denney. They live in Hertfordshire, at Cheshunt.” (far away from you, she added silently). Thomas nodded slowly.  
“Alright, love. We will send the princess away until our child is born. People will talk otherwise, which is the last thing we want.”  
“No, it’s the last thing you want!”  
“Think rationally, Catherine. We don’t want this stain on our family’s reputation.”  
“Fine. Lady Elizabeth shall return after our child has been born and I have been churched. Until that time, she will go to live with the Denneys, and we will remove ourselves to Sudeley Castle. The country air will do me good.”.  
Thomas nodded. Kissing her hand, he stood and left the room.  
Catherine looked after him, full of rage and hurt. She couldn’t help feeling like she’d just lost something very important. Something she’d never be able to get back.

\----------------Present Day---------------------------  
“So Elizabeth was sent to Cheshunt the next day, with her governess and the rest of her household. I left for Sudeley with my husband. I never saw her again, since I died soon after childbirth. I never stopped missing her, Anne. I-I used to wish she had been my own daughter, and I just threw her out!”.   
Anne looked up from her lap, where she’d been staring, silently listening with tears streaming down her already tear-stained face.   
“No, Cathy. I understand why you were so upset. Honestly, thank you for removing her from that situation. And thank you for telling me this. It means a lot.” she said softly. Reaching her arms out, she wrapped Cathy in a tight hug. 

Returning the hug, Cathy began to cry. Anne pulled back upon feeling the tears on her shoulders, looking the other queen in the eyes.  
“Cathy, I forgive you. I can’t say I’m proud of how you acted, but I won’t judge you. Things were so different then! Besides, I know that you were like a mother to Elizabeth, more of a parent than Henry could have ever hoped to be. We’ll move on from this.”.   
Cathy smiled slightly.   
“Thank you, Anne.”  
“Anytime.” she said, smiling sadly. Then, standing up, she reached out her hand for Cathy to take. “Now, let’s go get the cookies that I can smell Jane stress-baking while they all wait for us to tell them everything. Sound good?”  
“Sounds great.”  
And with that, the two marched into the kitchen hand-in-hand, ready to meet the throng of questions they knew were waiting for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys want another chapter with the other's reactions? Or is this a good way to end? Let me know!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed:)  
> Here's a list of websites I used, just in case you wanted to learn more, and also because I did A LOT of research for this.  
> https://www.rmg.co.uk/discover/explore/young-elizabeth-and-seymour-scandal  
> https://tudors.fandom.com/wiki/Anne_Boleyn#:~:text=Early%20in%20episode%202.05%2C%20Anne's,Mary%20from%20court%20as%20punishment.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6AWUFuRQLDw  
> https://www.historyextra.com/period/tudor/did-thomas-seymour-sexually-abuse-the-teenage-princess-elizabeth/  
> https://thehistoryjar.com/2018/04/15/scandal-at-chelsea-the-courtship-and-marriage-of-katherine-parr-and-sir-thomas-seymour/
> 
> Reviews make me happy! Love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> for further reading on this subject, check out History Extra's article about it.   
> have a great day/night/life!  
> I'll try to update this as soon as possible.  
> leave a review, we should become friends because I don't socialize with people that live near me.


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